


The C Note

by Puddless



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor overhears him, Evan isn't crushing on Zoe, Evan plays the piano and sings, Fluff, I'll add more tags as i go, I'm posting this to force myself to work on it lmao, Jared sucks in this one, M/M, Music AU, Slow Burn, first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-13 13:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puddless/pseuds/Puddless
Summary: Evan’s favorite note was C. It was the note he used to center himself on the piano, the first note he learned how to read, and the best note out of all music. At least, in his opinion.Or,Connor and Evan strike up a friendship when Connor overhears Evan playing in one of the practice rooms during lunch. Shenanigans ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

Evan sat in the practice room, hands set on the piano. His fingers trembled. A tear dropped down from his cheek onto the keys. His cast weighed his arm down awkwardly, making his fingers fumble and his wrist ache. He could barely play. Evan’s fingers pressed down into a C chord. It sounded out, filling the walls of the room. Evan played the chord again, transitioning to an Em and then to a D. Simple. Easy. Then, from D to G and- Evan’s fingers slip, hitting the wrong notes. Terrible. Useless. Ruined.

Evan’s fingers curled into his palms and he choked back a sob. Lunch would be ending soon, and he’d have to leave in the next five minutes if he wanted to avoid being found by a band or choir kid. He usually avoided the practice rooms at school, opting to wait until he got home to his keyboard but he couldn’t today. Music was supposed to calm him down. It was what his therapist called his “safe place.” And god knows he needed that after Connor Murphy had pushed him that morning. One day in and he had already pissed off the scariest kid at school. What an idiot.

He sniffled, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it up to wipe away his tears. He got up from the piano bench and picked up his bag. Just two more classes for the day and he could leave. He could manage. He had to.

Evan pushed the door open and walked down the hall past the band room. He turned into the main hall of the building, walking towards the entrance of the building. Two other students stood ahead to the left, arguing. A taller figure leaned against the lockers as a shorter student berated them.

“Seriously? In my car? What the fuck, Connor?”

“Calm down-”

“It smells like fucking weed Connor, what the fuck am I going to tell my friends when we go out together?”

Evan cringed internally. Just his luck, two of the most intimidating people in the school: the Murphy’s. Zoe Murphy, one of the prettiest and most popular Junior girls. Evan had ‘loved’ her at first sight his sophomore year, back when he still talked to Jared. Jared had teased him endlessly for it, making sure to point out both how unattractive and socially inept Evan was. Evan had gotten over her quickly after that. Jared still loved to tease him about it though. 

Connor Murphy, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He radiated hostility, keeping to himself most of the time. If anyone ever so brushed shoulders with him in the halls, they would get slammed against a locker. Everyone avoided him. People told stories of having found his manifesto, claiming that he was going to shoot up the school. Others claimed he was in a gang, dealing drugs in a town over. After AP Psych in Sophomore year it grew worse, people claiming that he exhibited signs of a sociopath and that it was only a matter of time until he selected his first victim. All of these rumors made Evan far too anxious. He barely could even look at Connor without feeling his hands go clammy.

Evan glued his eyes to the floor and gripped the straps of his bag as he approached the Murphy’s. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice him. 

“What are your friends going to say? It’s just a bit of weed Zoe god-”

“It’s not a bit! You fucking hotboxed my car!”

“Well, maybe if you-”

Oh god. Connor had cut himself off just as Evan was walking past them. Why were they quiet? Were they staring at him?

“Hey Evan, are you lost?” Zoe asked him. Evan shook his head and sped up, not even sparing a glance at her. They were staring. Zoe knew he wasn’t supposed to be in the art building, she knew that he was a senior, she probably thought he was dumb and didn’t know how to find himself around the school, oh god-

“He’s a senior Zoe,” Connor sneered. The lockers creaked, signifying that he had pushed himself off them. “He isn’t lost.”

“I know that, I was just-”

Evan reached the doors and pushed them open, speed walking out of the building. The bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. Evan walked across the campus to the math building, students already roaming the halls. Evan took a deep breath before plunging into the crowd. Just a few more classes.

\----

The computer lab was eerily quiet, the only sound to keep Evan company coming from the fans of the large, outdated school desktop. He stared at the word document on the screen, rubbing one of his eyes blearily.

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Today wasn’t that great at all. I managed to make someone angry before the first bell had even rung. Connor Murphy. To put it simply- he’s terrifying. I think he hates me now? I don’t know. I hear all these rumors about him and sometimes I feel like they’re true. I’ll probably be his first victim, oh god._

_But... I don’t know. Maybe they aren’t and he’s just trying his best. Maybe he’s actually really nice and everyone else just isn’t. Maybe he might be the only one in this school who might understand me. ... Either way, I made him angry, so he definitely hates me now. I didn’t even mean to laugh, I just get nervous and I laugh. I think that’s why people don’t like me. I’m too socially awkward. Jared reminds me of this all the time. He likes to remind me of a lot of things._

_Sometimes I think about how it would be if everything was different. If I was just someone else. Jared might actually be my friend then, maybe other people would like me too. I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_

_No. Not really._

_Sincerely,_

_Your best, and dearest friend, Me._

 

Evan let out a breath and printed out the page. There, now Dr.Sherman wouldn’t have to give him that look she always gave him when he disappointed her. He hated that look, it made his stomach drop and his skin itchy. Evan logged off the computer and picked up his bag, turning to come face to face with Connor Murphy. _Fuck._

Evan’s eyes immediately went down to the floor. Connor cleared his throat.

“Hey.” 

“H-hey.” Evan mumbled, fiddling with the straps of his bookbag. Connor’s shoes shift and Evan glances up at him briefly. Well, one thing was for certain. Despite however scary Connor may be, no one could deny that he was pretty. Both of the Murphy’s were. But Connor had something distinct about him, in the way his hair fell around his-

“What happened to your arm?” Evan startles, looking away from Connor immediately. What was he thinking?? This was _Connor Murphy_ , the guy who _hated_ him. 

“I fell out of a tree,” Evan mumbled, staring at a computer as if it could teleport him out of the room. Connor snorts, jerking back his attention.

“You fell out of a tree? Oh my god,” Connor shakes his head, looking down at Evan. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Evan’s stomach clenches, his hands already feeling clammy. He smiles weakly at Connor, attempting a jerky shrug.  
“I know.” He squeaks. Connor pauses, looking him over.

“No one’s signed your cast yet.” Evan just wants to disappear at this point. It’s like Connor just keeps finding out how more and more pathetic he is the longer he’s around him. Evan smiles weakly and shrugs again. The room falls silent. Connor looks away, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I’ll sign it.”

“W-what?”

“Your cast. Do you have a sharpie?” Evan blinks at Connor stupidly before shrugging off his backpack to dig around for a sharpie. 

Did Connor really want to sign his cast? Or was he just going to draw something like Jared would or what if he writes Loser on his cast like what happened to that kid from It- Evan’s fingers close around a sharpie and he grabs it, handing it over to Connor. Connor steps closer towards him, grabbing his arm and scrawling his name out in big letters. He caps the marker and hands it back to Evan.

“There. Now we can both pretend we have friends.” Connor smirked at him, adjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder. Evan looked away and nodded, forcing another smile on his face. Jared would never let him hear the end of it once he saw Evan’s cast.

They both stand there awkwardly for a moment before Connor suddenly spots the printer. “Oh, did you print something?” He reaches for the page before Evan processes what is happening.

“I- yes but please don’t read-”

“What the _fuck_?” Connor looks over the paper, his brows furrowing. “ ‘I’ll probably be his first victim’ ? Seriously?” Evan takes a step back, bumping against one of the chairs. It screeches against the tile floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s just a dumb letter, it doesn’t mean anything-”

“Yeah, it doesn’t. And neither do fucking you.” Connor practically spat at Evan, crumpling up the paper and shoving it in his pocket. He storms out of the computer lab, slamming the classroom door open on his way out.

Evan stood in the lab for a while, his blood pounding in his ears. He could feel the panic sitting on his chest like a mound of bricks, threatening to spill over and drown him. He was totally screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The waiting room was quiet save for the faint jazz playing in the background. Several self-help books littered the coffee table, being cheerily useless. Evan should know, he had read through most of them. He sat on a couch, his leg bouncing as he waited for Dr.Sherman to come out. He kept replaying the encounter with Connor he had in the computer lab, wondering just how angry the other boy had been. Was Connor going to hurt him now? Beat him up before class next morning? Or maybe he was going to find a way to humiliate Evan or maybe black mail, or-

“Evan?” Dr.Sherman’s voice cut through Evan’s thoughts, snapping him back to reality. A jazzy piano solo greeted him back into reality as he blinked over at Dr.Sherman. She smiled warmly and beckoned him into the room. “How are you today Evan?”

“Uhm, fine, I guess.” Evan followed her into the room and sat down in front of her as she settled into her chair. She reached for her notebook, pulling it onto her lap.

“And how was school?” Shrugging, Evan picked at a loose string at the hem of his polo.

“Eh.”

“Eh? Why don’t you tell me about that?”

“I...I kind of made someone angry?” Evan looks up at Dr.Sherman briefly. She meets his gaze and nods encouragingly. He looks away. “I was writing one of my letters and I mentioned this boy in it and he… he saw it.”

“And why would he be angry?”

“Well, I didn’t...write nice things. About him.” Dr.Sherman sighed, sitting back in her chair. Evan’s gut tightened.

“Evan, you should know better than anyone to be nice to people.” She reached for her pen and scribbled something down in her notebook. Evan bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his anxiety bubble in his chest. “And I know it’s hard. When I was younger, talking bad about others was fairly common at my school too. We used to leave notes laying around…”

Evan zoned out at this point, watching as she moved her pen for emphasis as she spoke. It was always like this. Dr.Sherman would end up rambling about a story of hers in an attempt to tie it into the situation but it never worked. Nothing ever worked.

“...So I think it would be best to just do that, no?” Dr.Sherman smiled at him, waiting for a response. Evan blinked, forcing a smile onto his face.  
“Y-yeah, you’re right. I’ll try that from now on.” He had no idea what Dr.Sherman had said, but he wasn’t about to admit that he hadn’t been listening.

“Now, where’s that letter?” Dr.Sherman set her notebook down on her lap and looked at him expectantly.

“Letter? Oh… I-I don’t have it?” The look of disappointment on his doctor’s face made Evan want to curl up and disappear. It made him feel like he was back in second grade, having to tell his mom that he had his bear moved to the red color that day. That he had been bad.

“Evan, you just told me you wrote it.”

“Yeah, but, the boy? Connor? He, uh, he took it.”

“Right,” Dr.Sherman nodded, looking down at her notebook. She scribbled down another note. Probably something about how he was lying, even though he wasn’t. Oh god. She looked back up at him and plastered on a smile. “Let’s continue then.”

\----

Evan had to take the bus home whenever his mom was working late. He hated the bus. He stood at the stop across the street from the building he was just in, gripping his bus pass tightly. It was one of his least favorite parts about having to go to therapy. After an exhausting session of lying and pretending that Dr.Sherman’s rambles were working, he had to sit on a bus and fight a panic attack for about fifteen minutes. His mom had felt bad one time he had mentioned it, so he had lied and said that Jared would pick him up sometimes. That it wasn’t that bad. That he was exaggerating. But he wasn’t.

The bus sputtered around the corner, crawling forward towards the stop. Evan got up, stepping closer to the curb. One time he had been sitting on the bench a bit far off and the bus driver hadn’t seen him. He’d kept going and Evan had been stuck for another thirty minutes. It had been terrible. He got on the bus and sat at the front, trying his best to ignore the other people on the bus. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, trying to look busy. 

Today’s session hadn’t done anything to soothe his nerves about what had happened with Connor. Evan tightened his grip on his phone and opened up instagram. The other boy was probably planning the best way to get back at him right now. He probably hated him and wanted to ruin his life. Evan scrolled through his feed, looking at all the people he wished he was. Everyone was excited about senior year, posting first day pics and comparisons to freshman year. Everyone was happy, looking forward to the future. No one was worried about Connor Murphy killing them the next day. Fuck.

Evan exited the app and stared at his home screen. It was a picture of a sunset he had taken over the summer while volunteering at the park. He thought it had been pretty and set it as his home screen. Jared had made fun of him for it, saying that Evan had a “tree fetish.” Jared always made fun of Evan, didn’t- Wait, Jared. Jared could help him, right? He talked to Connor occasionally, usually to make fun of him, but he wasn’t dead. So, he should know better than anyone if Evan had gone too far, right?

Evan went to his contacts and opened up his text conversation with Jared. The last time he had texted the other boy had been a few weeks ago, when Jared had invited him over for dinner so his parents still thought they were friends. It had sucked but it beat having to panic over a phone call to the pizza place. Evan bit his lip and typed out a message.

 

**Evan (6:47pm):** Hey sorry to bother you but I need to ask you something about Connor?

**Evan (6:47pm):** I kinda wrote about him in one of my therapy letters today and he saw it

**Evan (6:48pm):** I just need to know if Im dead or not? 

 

The bus slowed to a halt at Evan’s stop and he clambered out. He checked his phone to make sure Jared hadn’t responded yet and started walking home. It was cold out, the beginnings of fall beginning to tint the air. Evan shuddered, wrapping his arms around his chest. He probably should stop wearing the polos. He knew they weren’t very “fashionable” but he was terrified of changing the way he dressed. Everyone would notice! He didn’t want to draw attention, oh god, could you imagine? And then he’d have to ask his mom to buy him new clothes and then she’d take him to the mall and then he’d be nervous because what if his classmates saw him at the mall with his mom? His phone buzzed, wrenching him away from his thoughts.

 

**Jared (6:55pm):** lol whatd u do

**Evan (6:55pm):** I just wrote about how scary he was and how I thought he wanted to kill me

**Evan (6:56pm):** Is that really bad? He saw it and got REALLY angry and idk

 

Evan bit his lip, shivering as he walked. He saw Jared read the message and start typing.

 

**Jared (6:57pm):** lmfaoooo dude ur so fukin dead

**Evan: (6:57pm):** ???????????

**Jared (6:57pm):** nice knowin’ ya dude, but ya, he’s fr gunna kill u now

Evan’s breath caught in his throat. Oh god, if even Jared said he was screwed then he must be. Connor hated him, which meant he was definitely dead. Evan turned off his phone and slipped it back in his pocket, shivering violently now. He tried to jerkily wrap his arms across his chest again but ended up jostling his cast. Hot pain exploded from his wrist, climbing up his arm. Evan paused for a second, bending slightly to catch his breath. Tears sprung into his eyes, followed by a slow fading of the pain. As if things couldn’t get worse.

Eventually he made it home, closing the door behind him. He wandered in, turning on the lights. 

“Mom?” He called, walking into the kitchen. There was a $20 bill on the counter, with a small little note. Sighing, Evan walked out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room. He didn’t have the energy to try calling any takeout place tonight. 

His backpack was on the floor by his bed where he had left it, gutted for notebooks that were now scattered on his desk. He really didn’t have homework after the first day, but Evan tried to unpack his bag out of habit. Maybe doing so would actually motivate him to do his homework during the year. Evan had placed the bulky desk close enough to the door that when he opened the door, it would be stopped halfway by one of the desk’s ends. That way, he had created a small little alcove where he kept his keyboard. It was a bit cramped, but he was guaranteed never to really be walked in on while he was playing.

Evan trudged over to his keyboard and powered it on. He might be screwed for tomorrow, but at least he had this to help calm him down tonight. It was an old keyboard, bought by his dad as an attempt at a birthday present seven years ago. It was really the only nice thing he had from his dad. The yellowed screen greeted him. **001 - Grand Piano** Evan adjusted the piano and hit his favorite note. C. He smiled slightly and adjusted his fingers on the piano, playing out the opening notes to Tiny Dancer. He took a deep breath before singing, his voice cracking slightly.

_Blue jean baby, L.A. Lady,_

His nerves slipped from his fingers and onto the keys, any excess falling from his lips. He loved songs like these, the soft piano paired with vocal emotion. It helped him relax.

_Seamstress for the band,_

_Pretty eyed, pirate smi-_

His left fingers slipped, the cast causing them to stumble. The sour note broke through the blanket of calm the song had created. Evan stopped, heart pounding. He couldn’t even do this right. His right hand curled into a fist and released. The panic that built up over the day now sat at his throat, threatening to spill over and explode. A static poured into his brain like molasses as he set his fingers on the piano again. He could never do anything right.

**\-----**

His alarm blaring was the worst part of everyday. Evan’s eyes opened slowly, heavily. He turned to shut off his alarm, settling back down on his bed. He stared sleepily at the ceiling as his thoughts slowly began to seep in. Oh no. Today was the day he died. Probably. Who knew? 

There was a knock on his door, followed by it slowly creaking open. Heidi’s face peered through, breaking into a smile when she saw he was awake.

“Hi,” She whispered, poking more of her head into his room. “You sleep ok?” Evan shrugged, pulling his blanket up to his chin.

“I… I think I’m feeling a lil’ sick.” He croaked, peering up at his mother. Heidi sighed, pushing open the door fully and walking into his room.

“Evan, you can’t miss your second day of school. You need to keep absences-”

“-Only for emergencies. I know, I guess.” Evan sat up, rubbing his face. Heidi grimaced and stepped closer to rest her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry hun. But it’s senior year! It’s your last second day of school!” She tried her best to sound excited, but Evan heard the way her voice fell a little flat, lacking genuine excitement. He shrugged away from her hand, turning to get out of bed.

“I guess.” He got up, refusing to look at her as he stumbled over to his closet. He didn’t want to see the hurt look on her face or the way she watched him worriedly. It only made him feel worse. He almost hoped Connor actually did kill him today. Maybe his mom would finally be rid of him.

“Remember to take your meds before you come down, ok?” Heidi murmured, walking to his door. Evan nodded, reaching for a shirt in his closet. He heard the door close quietly behind him and tried his best to ignore the pit of guilt sitting heavily in his stomach.

**\-----**

Walking into school had been terrible. Was terrible. Evan kept peeking over his shoulder to make sure Connor wasn’t about to ambush him. He was hyperware that other students were looking at him, maybe even staring? Dr.Sherman said it was all in his head but Evan just knew that they looked. He was always being watched. He got to his locker, opening it and bracing himself for Connor Murphy to barrel in, ready to kill him. But Connor never came. 

First period melted into second, which soon led to lunch hour. Jared rarely interacted with him at school, choosing to ignore him for his real friends. Evan narrowly avoided bumping his cast against the doorframe as Jared pushed past, knocking his shoulder against it instead. He watched as Jared walked over to his waiting friends, throwing an arm around one of their shoulders. Jared had grown up, made a group, found happiness. And Evan... was still friendless.

Sighing, Evan adjusted the straps on his bag and started walking down the hall. Usually he’d go eat lunch in the library but the thought of being caught by Connor Murphy there out of all places made his heart speed up. No, it would be better to hide in a practice room, if they were open. He’d be alone and safe there, probably.

Evan took the long way around campus to get to the art building, refusing to walk through the masses of students. It meant more time out in the cold, but it beat going the short way by a landslide. First of all, Connor would definitely spot him there. And second, he didn’t want to be stared at. Or get shouted at by Jared from his table of friends as he walked by. He didn’t want to see everyone else happy in their groups while he walked alone, as awkward and sweaty as he was his freshman year.

He pulled the backdoor to the art building open easily, the heat from the building warming his cheeks immediately. He turned into the band hallway quietly and peered in the practice rooms. All empty. He breathed out slowly and tried opening the one furthest down. Unlocked. Hooray.

The room was quiet and chilled. His backpack dropping to the ground was muffled by the carpeted floor. It was a bit stuffy, enough to make Evan sneeze a few times before sitting at the piano. It was old, the wood having been worn, chipped, and defiled. A few crude pen drawings littered the walls of the room. Evan set his fingers down, centering himself with the C note. He played a few chords, clearing his throat. The chords turned into the opening melody of a song he had started working on during the summer.

__  
_I’ve learned to slam on the brake,_  
_Before I even turn the key_  
_Before I make a mistake,_  
_Before I lead with the worst of me,_

He sang softly above the notes of the piano, growing louder as he grew more confident. His left hand hit the right notes, the ache from yesterday not as prominent. 

  
_Give them no reason to stare,_  
_No slipping up if I slip away,_  
_So I got nothing to share,_  
_No, I got nothing to say_

Evan’s mind flitted back to the last few years of high school, thinking of how pointless it all felt. How little he had accomplished, how worthless it all seemed. His fingers struck the chords harder, growing in intensity as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat.

  
_Step out, step out of the sun,_  
_If you keep getting burned_  
_Step out, step out of the sun,_  
_Because you’ve learned, because you’ve learned,_

He paused for a second, swallowing. He didn’t want to cry, not at school. Taking a shaky breath, he played the next few notes softly. His voice quietly rang above the notes.

  
_On the outside, always looking in,_  
_Will I ever be more than I’ve ever been?_  
_Cuz I’m tap, tap, tappin’ on the glass,_  
_Waving through a window_

Memories of his experiences the past four years began to flood in, faster and faster. The way Jared had abandoned him a few months into freshman year, sneering at Evan from over at his new lunch table. How no one ever talked to him, the way people avoided him.

  
_I try to speak but nobody can hear,_  
_So I wait around for an answer to appear,_  
_While I’m watch, watch, watchin’ people pass,_  
_Waving through a window,_  
_Can anybody see? Is anybody waving?_

Being pushed around in the halls. Allana only talking to him when she needed something. His mom never being there. Dr.Sherman never helping. 

  
_When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around,_  
_Do you ever really crash or even make a sound?_  
_When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around,_  
_Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?_

Falling, falling, falling. The hard ground. The sky. Failure. Help that had never come. Anger, anger, anger. Anger that mixed with the sadness in Evan’s chest and bubbled out through his words, louder, louder, louder. 

  
_When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around,_  
_Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?_  
_When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around,_  
_Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?_

  
_Did I even make a sound?_  
_Did I even make a sound?_  
_It's like I never made a sound_

Evan paused on the keys, his heart pounding in his throat. Tears were streaming down his face now, dripping down from his chin.

  
_Will I ever make a sound?_

He whispered the last line soft to himself, hitting the final notes on the piano. No, he wouldn’t. Here he was, crying in a practice room at _school._ Crying over what? Memories? Of course he was. Evan sighed and let his head fall onto the piano. Discordant notes blared, stretching out until he lifted his head. He wiped at the keys he had gotten wet with his cast, using his other hand to bring up his shirt to dry his tears. What a mess.

He pulled out his phone to check the time. No notifications. Figures. He still had about ten minutes left before the bell rang. Evan gripped the bottom of the piano seat and leaned back, taking in deep breaths to calm himself down. Today hadn’t been that bad. Sure, he had been worried about Connor jumping him from behind every corner, but he hadn’t even seen the boy the whole day. Maybe he had just overreacted. Maybe Connor wasn’t even that angry? That made him snort. Yeah, right. 

Eventually Evan got up and grabbed his bag. He ran his fingers around the piano keys, stopping on the C note before turning away. He’d have to finish writing that song some day. It was nice. 

He pushed open the door, turning into the hall when he suddenly saw someone leaning against the wall. His heart immediately dropped to the pit of his stomach, fear replacing the calm that had blanketed him a moment before. Connor Murphy peered down at him before pushing himself off the wall. He was dressed in his usual black hoodie and jeans, long hair as messy as it was yesterday. He looked terrifying. Evan’s hands were sweaty.

“Hey.” Connor muttered, standing almost awkwardly. Almost as if he was nervous too. Evan tried to answer but no words seemed to be forming in his mouth. Connor looked away from Evan, picking at his black nail polish. Wait- nail polish? “I didn’t know you could sing.” 

_Oh, fuck._ All Evan could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Someone had heard. _Connor_ had heard. Was he going to use this against him? The words tumbled out of his mouth quicker than he could process them.

“I can’t.” He faltered at the incredulous look Connor gave him, rubbing his hands against his pants. “I… You weren’t supposed to hear...that?”

“Did you write that song?” 

“Uh… y-yeah but it’s not like the lyrics mean anything I just...was rhyming words…” God, now Connor knew he was a complete loser. Writing songs about wanting to be heard like he was in some 2006 band. Connor was going to tell everybody and then Jared was going to hear and he’d never hear the end of it-

“They were good. You… you were good.” Connor sounded a bit uncomfortable, but not at all threatening. Nothing like what Evan expected him to be. “I’m surprised you’re not in music… or choir or whatever.” Evan shrugged in response, watching Connor carefully. The other boy looked a bit nervous, black polish flakes falling to the floor as he picked at them absentmindedly. His hair hadn’t been washed in a while, falling limply onto his shoulders. His eyes were sunken, tired. Yet somehow, somehow- 

“I read the rest of your letter.” Connor looked back at Evan and met his gaze. Evan flinched, immediately looking at the floor. He had no idea what to do with his hands.

“Fu- I- I’m so sorry about that, it’s just this dumb-”

“No, I- ...I overreacted. A bit. It...wasn’t that bad.” 

“Oh.” Evan had no idea how to respond. What did Connor mean by that? That he wasn’t going to kill him? Or, maybe, that he agreed with what Evan had written? The silence stretched between the two of them, heavy and awkward. All Evan could hear was the sound of Connor picking at his nails, watching as more black flakes peppered the tiles between their feet. Finally, Connor broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” Evan looked up suddenly, caught off guard.

“Wha-?” 

“-What you wrote about me in your letter. Do- did you, actually...?” Connor’s voice trailed off, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t want an answer. Silence lapsed between the two of them again as Evan thought.

Connor. Probably the scariest person Evan had ever met, aside from the guy that worked at the 7/11 at the edge of town two years ago. Now _that_ guy had been terrifying. But, was Connor really _that_ scary? Sure, Evan had spent the whole day convinced that the guy was going to kill him, but looking at him now he wasn’t so sure Connor was even capable of thinking something like that. He seemed to be opening up to Evan a little, for some reason. Did Connor actually, maybe, understand Evan? Was it worth trying to find out?

Suddenly, the bell rang. Loud, breaking the silent spell between them. Connor stiffened, turning away from Evan. 

“Forget it.” He started to walk out into the main hall, shoulders tense. Evan felt a flash of panic run through his chest, stepping forward.

“Wait! I- uh…” He stammered as Connor paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I did. At least, I hoped it.” Evan picked at his cast, avoiding the large name scribbled onto it. “But, I’m sorry for the first bit. I shouldn’t have written that.” Connor stood for a moment, his hesitation fanning the flames of panic in Evan’s chest more and more as time passed. Finally, he turned and gave Evan a curt nod.

“See you around Hansen.” He walked off into the hall, leaving Evan behind. Evan didn’t understand. Had he said the right thing or not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrOTe sO muCH hOLY,,,
> 
> Ok a few things;
> 
> 1\. Thank you so so much to everyone that commented and gave this kudos, it really motivated me to keep writing. Really, it meant a lot.
> 
> 2\. I'm writing this if Evan's school has a block schedule, like my old high school did :^)!!
> 
> 3\. I based Dr.Sherman's uselessness off my own experience with my first few therapists, but I by NO means am trying to diss therapy. It actually helps a lotta once you have the "best fit" of a therapist, I just thought having Dr.Sherman be not that great would be better for plot and character struggle here (also we love self-projection yIKEs)
> 
> 4\. I love Elton John I am so sorry but this is going to be 100% an elton john fanfiction sorry no more treebros only elton
> 
> 5\. I'm leaning towards keeping this solely in Evan's POV, but I'm a bit unsure. What do you guys think would be best?
> 
> 6\. And finally, was the song formatting better for Tiny Dancer or Waving? I'm still getting to know html so lmk what you thought as readers?
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways,,, I wrote most of this between 3-5am because I'm stupid kefhuewrh I edited it but I'm not sure how good my editing is so im so sorry

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ever fic that I've posted. I'm hoping to actually complete this, but I don't have a schedule set so the update thing is going to be irregular. 
> 
> I'm on summer break though so expect lotsa updates! I'm trying to improve my writing reeee
> 
> Also, I have played multiple instruments in the past and have taken sOME theory so I think I can do this Music AU justice. Let's hope.


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